Black Cadillacs
by his loss
Summary: Tradition dictates that the office of class president at Namimori High be equal to village idiot, so Sawada Tsunayoshi, eligible since kindergarten, is nominated and elected. Tradition driven disciplinary committee chairman Hibari Kyouya does not approve.


_I was dreaming when I wrote this/ So sue me if I go too fast_

All characters belong to their respective creator. Song of the same title by Modest Mouse in the background, if you please.

**Notes:** Taking some liberties with the Japanese school system and feeling out the idea that Hibari was practically running his own police mafia within Namimori Middle. Mentions of sexual and emotional harassment. Slight AU disjointed timeline prologue to the series, hinted canon. Intentional tense switch at the end.

* * *

_**Black Cadillacs  
**_

* * *

_And it's true that the clouds just hung around  
like black Cadillacs outside a funeral._

And we were done, done, done  
with all the fuck, fuck, fuckin' around.  
You were so true to yourself.  
You were true to no one else.  
Well I should put you in the ground.

* * *

Hibari was unusually pleased to discover that one of the herbivores had the will to fight back. Normally, he would have dismissed something like this as a moment of stupidity fueled by weak anger, but there was something in the class president's eyes – even briefly – that burned of true strength.

"Isn't that word a little big for your vocabulary?" he asked mildly.

Sawada blinked – the heat gone – and struggled out from under the steel tonfa.

"I know what _titular_means!" he protested, falling backward from the effort to deliver his words, steadying himself at the edge of his desk.

Hibari slowly turned on him, tonfas half raised. "So you thought this position was titular, Sawada Tsunayoshi? Is that why you are neglecting your duties?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. There was that heated will again. Kyouya prepared to strike. "I'm not a _complete_ idiot," he said through barred teeth. "I've known since _grade school_that I was going to be forced to run for office – against nobody – and win, just so the whole student body would have an acceptable scapegoat for anything that's wrong with this school." The end of his rant had less fire in it, and he dropped his gaze immediately.

Hibari smirked. "There is nothing wrong with Namimori. It is the embodiment of educational and academic perfection."

Sawada actually straightened it up. "Or else, right?"

Hibari held back a bitter smile. "Correct. But since you are being neglectful, this does not stand to truth." He punctuated the implied threat with another strike, one the class president either chose not to duck or was too slow for. When the student council door clicked closed behind him, Hibari had to admit to himself that he hoped it was the former.

* * *

"We're nominating dame-Tsuna, of course," someone sniggered.

From his post, Hibari fingered a tonfa, concealed stealthily in the fold of his jacket. They'd been having this conversation more and more lately. Class elections were coming up, and Namimori High tradition dictated that the office of class president be equal to village idiot. The herbivores down on the baseball field were discussing the long undisputed nomination of one Sawada Tsunayoshi.

From what Hibari gathered – his apathy for his weaker masses prevented him from keeping tabs – the boy was hopeless and always had been.

"Maa, maa," the soft and friendly voice of Yamamoto Takeshi – Hibari knew who _he_ was, of course. Besides having potential, the imbecile also once tried to commit ritual suicide on _his_campus. – argued. "Tsuna is a nice guy."

Someone in the crowd snorted and a ripple of laughter started up. Either they all chose to forget that it had been Sawada himself to stop Yamamoto from jumping off the roof or they didn't care. Hibari found it distasteful, either way.

"Sure he's nice," someone spoke up. "But that's why he's perfect. He's such a doormat."

Mutual agreement all around.

Hibari gripped the handle of his tonfa and stepped into view. "_Crowding_," he hissed.

* * *

The first time Hibari saw Sawada Tsunayoshi and knew who he was, it was two years before the election of his class, one year before Yamamoto stopped defending him. It was a pretty pathetic sight.

"Your state of undress is against Namimori standards, Sawada. You are also disgracing the school itself. Put some pants on."

Sawada gave a light whimper, drawing his knees up. Hibari flinched. There were bruises on his inner thighs, and his member was swollen from abuse. Footfalls thundered down the hallway outside the bathroom's rear exit.

"They took my pants," the boy murmured.

Hibari didn't bother to ask what else had been taken, but it wasn't hard to guess.

"They shall be dealt with in due course," Hibari muttered, throwing off his jacket. "Cover yourself for the time being. The nurse's office is down the hall."

Sawada's eyes widened in horror, gasped with gratitude. Kyouya thought he might strike him.

* * *

Two days after Hibari barges into the student council room to demand Sawada take more responsibility, Yamamoto Takeshi renews his efforts to placate most of the student body from badgering and demanding.

They ask for new cleaning equipment. Sawada spends an hour trying to negotiate with the principal and the treasury staff. They get two new brooms and a new bucket plus full aprons, then complain about it. They demand that Sawada read the daily announcements every day over the PA system and then ignore him entirely. Almost every sports team asks him to memorize the names of their members plus their stats and the stats of their opponents. Sawada has a panic attack on the day both the basketball team and the water polo team have championship matches. Everyone delights in his humiliation.

"Fight back," Kyouya seethes, the student council room a wreck.

Sawada struggles to his feet. He'll have a bruise on his jaw tomorrow, and his shirt is torn.

"Them or you?" he questions, voice almost dangerously low.

Hibari starts to shift into a defensive stance and stops himself. "I'm going to let you answer that yourself."

The fierce will that Hibari was looking for returns to Sawada's eyes, and a split second after he raises his right tonfa in defense, a fist crashes into the steel frame, jolting him back half a space. A soft leathered fingerless glove dangles from Sawada's other hand. Hibari gives him a moment to put it on and then strikes back. Surprisingly, he hits nothing, and a small, hard fist bullets into his ribs.

They exchange more blows; Hibari calm, yet excited, to have an opponent for once and not just another weak minded angry herbivore. Sawada is a mess of hair and limbs that don't flow but his punches are intentional and his eyes are intensely focused.

And then they crash into each other and the boy doesn't let go.

Hibari recognizes that this is somewhat like crowding, but he doesn't move except to fist the hair at the back of Tsuna's neck to tilt his face upward. They're at a stalemate. Tsuna looks as though he's going to start crying. Kyouya thinks he might pull back and strike him.

Tsuna says, very quietly, "It's like everyone expects something of me. Here. At home. Being class president. I'm supposed to handle things even though no one cares. I _want_to care. My dad and my grandfather. They think I'm something special, tell me I'm going to be a leader some day, but I don't see it. I'm fighting back, but it's not enough."

"Then get stronger," Kyouya hears himself say.

He has never kissed anyone, so doesn't realize it until Sawada kisses him back, tentatively at first, and then with as much fire as the blow he delivers to his gut when they pull apart. Hibari grabs at him and pins him to the floor. Sweat plasters the thin hairs at the line of Tsuna's temple to his skin. Hibari contemplates a long moment, bends down and tastes it, briefly satisfied at the salted heat of it. Tsuna squirms, whimpers, and then relaxes, entangling his legs with Hibari's thighs and torso.

They kiss again, slowly, shifting to press closer together.

Tsuna will get stronger, Hibari tells himself, shivering involuntarily at the moan clouding his vision. He decides to have him, just once. But if he was stronger, then he could have him again, and as may times after that as he wanted.

"What did they do to me?" Tsuna murmurs quietly.

Hibari thinks of the sickeningly fluorescent lights in the bathroom, Sawada's scrawny thighs wrecked with marks and his inflamed cock hidden behind his drawn up knees. He doesn't answer, as the question isn't meant to have one, and carefully slips his hand past the rip in Tsuna's school shirt, down the front of his pants. He is able to admit to himself that he's had this fantasy before, but it's much better in breathing flesh.

"H-hibariii-saan," Tsuna breathes, fighting the grip that pins his wrists against the leg of his desk, unfastening the catch and zipper before softly pressing his palm over the back of Hibari's hand, arching his back just so. Hibari feels a spasm somewhere in his knees and half collapses, capturing Tsuna's lips to cover up the fact that he isn't breathing normally.

He kisses with his eyes open, vision hazy at the sight of Tsuna's eyes peacefully closed, the feel of his sex under their fingers. Before now Hibari has thought of himself as solely an asexual being, but when he bites down none too gently on the full lower lip of the other boy and a choked, pleading follows it, Tsuna's fingers raking up into his hairline, he knows he must abandon this opinion.

Kyouya feels the deep aroused throbbing under his fingers and breaks the kiss, steadying himself against the floor, stroking and pulling at the length of Tsuna's erection. It's almost too satisfying when the moment finally comes, being over someone and feeling them spill out in a swift carnivorous climax. He spreads himself out on the floor beside Tsuna, content that his own member is patient, though warm and hard. He tries and is successful in not imagining too much about how Tsuna will reciprocate. He wonders, instead, if Tsuna knows the meaning of the word.

"I am going to rest," Hibari says, pleased to note that Tsuna is paying attention, that he gulps and nods immediately. "If you disturb me, I will kill you."

Tsuna exhales loudly, moaning quietly to himself before Hibari shuts his eyes. As he drifts between sleep and consciousness he only thinks about how long it will take for him to get stronger so that he can have him again, really have him. He is not successful in preventing himself from imagining himself inside Tsuna, closer to anyone than he'd ever want. But he does, and he tells himself once more that Tsuna will get stronger.

When he opens his eyes again Tsuna is staring at him longingly, gazing down the ride of his chest to the bulge at the seam of Hibari's pants. He seems afraid, but the flicker of will is deep when he meets Hibari's eyes and releases a soft gasp.

Hibari takes his wrist and guides it slowly over his clothing, delighting in the way he squirms, knowing he doesn't mind this humiliation.

"If I ever have to kill you," he threatens, and instantly loves how attentive Tsuna is, biting his lower lip, "If I ever have to kill you, then you won't be able to kiss me again."


End file.
